


just because i'm losing (doesn't mean i'm lost)

by soniclipstick (veriscence)



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel 616, Secret Avengers
Genre: Deaf Clint Barton, First Kiss, M/M, Phil Needs a Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 20:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2745197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veriscence/pseuds/soniclipstick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Phil fights PTSD, and Clint helps.</p><p>Follows up after Secret Avengers 10. </p><p>[Changing th post date because of the author releases]</p>
            </blockquote>





	just because i'm losing (doesn't mean i'm lost)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ratherastory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratherastory/gifts).



> For ratherastory's fic prompt, which is better explained in the end notes. 
> 
> **Trigger warnings:** Mention of PTSD, flashbacks experienced from an outside point of view.
> 
>  **Premise:** This story is firmly Marvel 616, the main comic universe, with a dash of the Marvel Cinematic Universe; in that Sam Wilson is the MCU Sam Wilson. More information in the end notes.  
>  **Spoilers:** Up to and including Hawkeye 20 and Secret Avengers 10.
> 
> The song title is from the Coldplay song Lost, which, along with Cosmic Love by Florence + the Machine was basically all I listened to while I wrote this. 
> 
> Thank you to my awesome beta ereshai, who had very little time to beta this, and yet managed to do a fantastic job anyway.

 

* * *

  **1.**

 

Clint is busy trying to remember whether he's left Simone enough dog food for Lucky when a particularly loud "No!" drags him back to the Secret Avengers debriefing that's taking place around him. It takes him a moment to realise that Maria Hill and Phil Coulson are glaring at each other with such intensity that if the SHIELD squints were to find a way to harness that energy, they would make millions on clean energy.

"You went off radar, refused to go to mandatory psych sessions and wasted valuable SHIELD resources while Hawkeye had to trail after you-"

"-but in the end, he did save the day," Clint interrupts Hill mid-tirade. "Tlön didn't happen, the Great Culling didn't come. Okay, so we have a bunch of Fury babies to deal with, so what?  I don't know about you, but that’s still a good day in my books."

"Indefinite. Paid. Leave," Maria reiterates, ignoring Clint. "Get off of my Helicarrier."

"I live here!" Phil snaps back.

"Then get out of my briefing room. All dismissed." Hill turns away and watches the rest of the team exit the room. "What do you need? I only have like ninety things to do today so hurry up," she tells Clint, arms crossed across her chest, looking up at him expectantly.

"Can I get a ride home? Because I have a dog that may or may not need feeding and an apartment building that may or may not need land lording-"

"Go bug Sitwell."

* * *

**2.**

 

It turns out Kate's fed Lucky. And left pizza. Clint could really get used to this whole letting others help shtick.

* * *

**3.**

 

It had been a week full of official Avengers business (there was a giant eye ball involved, don't ask1), and Clint had been looking forward to the weekend, which would consist of watching his recording of the newest episode of _Dog Cops_ and ordering in, when Hill had called him in for a covert op.

Now it's Sunday evening, Natasha's glaring at him, Jess is ignoring him, and also there's goo, _so much_ goo everywhere. He wants to head home right after decontamination but he has an injured teammate who's still stuck in a coma. So Clint decides to visit Fury Jr. He's not expecting to find Phil curled up in a ball in the only couch in the room. His eyes are shut, but they snap open as soon as the sliding doors open to allow Clint inside.

Clint doesn't need to be Hawkeye to realise what's happening; the wide eyes, shadowed by deep circles, and shaking hands are all signs of an impending flashback as Phil jerks upright into a combat position. Clint raises his hands up immediately. "Hey Phil, it's just me."

After a moments terse silence, Phil loses the tension and slumps into his seat again. "Barton."

Clint sighs. What is it with them SHIELD types and calling people by their last names? Like, do people actually do that? It reminds him of those high society Avengers functions he's stuck going to every month. "Ya know, Clint's fine. Or Hawkeye, if you'd prefer that. Could I keep watch with you for a while?"

When Phil nods, Clint walks slowly towards him, telegraphing every move, and sits beside Phil on the sofa. It's an ugly shade of yellow that makes Phil look even worse.

Phil sits with his hands in his lap. He’s dressed in a wrinkled shirt, his tie loosened and his suit jacket hanging off the side of the bed. They're close enough that Clint can feel the heat radiating from Phil's body, but not close enough to touch.

He looks so small.

Clint wishes he knew what to say or do, but he’s lost at sea.

"I'm sorry." Phil says, and Clint faces him. He must look pretty confused because Phil adds, "You know, for pointing that gun at your head."

"Oh. Right. Ha ha, don't worry about it. I've had my fair share of friends pointing their weapons at me for one reason or the other," he tries to joke but it only makes Phil frown more. God, why is he so useless at this? Trying to change the subject, he says, "How is Nick doing?"

Phil turns away to look at his friend, reaching over to squeeze Nick’s hand and then slowly pulling back. "No change. He's healing, but he won't wake up."

Clint's lost a lot of friends over the years so he knows how useless empty encouragements are. Instead, he listens, and hopes it's enough. They stay silent for so long that Clint visibly startles when his phone vibrates in his pocket. It's Kate.

_Hurry up or I'll eat all the pizza._

He chances one more glance at Phil, who is crumpling into himself. Without thinking, Clint takes Phil’s hands into his own. "I meant it, you know? When I said we can talk about it? If you need to just talk, or whatever, I'm uh- I'm here for you, Phil."

Phil stares at him. Okay. Awkward. Clint stands up, rubs the back of his head just so he has something to do with his hands. "So, yeah. I'll see you around, Phil."

He's nearly out the door when Phil clears his throat.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." Phil swallows. "Clint."

A warmth blooms in Clint's chest and he ignores it in favour of smiling awkwardly at Phil. "Don't mention it."

* * *

**4.**

 

A few weeks later, he's playing Jenga with Sam at the Tower, when he blurts out, "My friend has PTSD and I don't know what to do."

Sam is one of the sweetest guys Clint knows, and he's so thankful for that because Sam just turns away from the screen to face Clint and says, "I have some pamphlets and information in my room, if you want."

Three hours and a visit to the VA office later, Clint comes home to Bed Stuy with an entire tote bag full of pamphlets, plus three sheets of paper in his chicken scratch with everything Sam told him.

He ignores Kate's raised eyebrow. It'll go away if he ignores it long enough, right?

* * *

**5.**

 

 

Wrong.

* * *

**6.**

 

The weeks pass and Clint spends them between Avengers missions and fixing up things for his tenants. Kate has taken over his kitchen table with her current mission: organising her friend's wedding. Clint doesn't remember ever using it so he continues having dinner on the couch. That doesn't stop him from complaining about it endlessly though.

One day, he's finally fixing the satellite dish for Simone when SHIELD shows up via Helicarrier and kidnaps him again. He only just manages to finish replacing the damn thing before the agents pull him up. Simone waves him away with thanks.

"Guys, I have a house phone _and_ a SHIELD phone," he tells Hill. "You could just call."

"I have a mission for you," Hill says, not even bothering to look up from her desk. "Sit down."

Clint complies, crossing his arms and resting his feet on the edge of her desk. She looks up, glares at the shoes. Okay, that's terrifying. Bad idea. _Super_  bad idea. He puts his feet down. "What up, boss?"

Hill rolls her eyes and sighs; her trigger finger is twitching ever so slightly. She's clearly running on too little sleep and a whole lot of stimulants, so it might be better if Clint treads with a bit more care. "The more competent members of your team have been sent on a two-week-long mission. In the meantime, I need you to keep a closer eye on Coulson. He's not showing up to mandatory psych sessions, and I refuse to have him in the field until he deals with the PTSD."

"So what, you want me to spy on one of your agents and report to you?" Clint asks bluntly. "Cause ya know, that's not going to happen."

"I don't give a shit if you report to me on it or not, just deal with it. I'm running this Initiative with only three of five assets and my right hand is in a coma in medical.  I don't care if he talks to a SHIELD psychiatrist or just someone SHIELD-approved, but he needs to deal with it, and seeing as he responded well to you in Venezuela, I'm giving you the responsibility."

Clint nods and stands up. "I'll talk to him," he says before walking toward the door.

"And Barton," Hill stops him just as he turns the handle. "Get him off my Helicarrier, he hasn't left in weeks."

* * *

**7.**

 

It takes him three minutes to find a secure location within the vents. Clint takes out his hearing aids and sets them down beside him.

He takes a deep breath and tells himself it's just like a mission. This isn't a responsibility or commitment that he needs to run from. Phil's a friend, who is going through PTSD, and might need help. 

__Just treat it like any other mission._ _

* * *

**8** **.**

 

It's really not, though.

* * *

**9.**

 

Phil's not with Nick, who, Clint gratefully notes, looks better, even if he's still unconscious. He's absent from the training rooms as well. Clint snags a couple of scones while walking through the mess to get to the limited personal quarters on the carrier. They're pineapple.

He knocks on Phil’s door and waits. Nothing. He knocks again.

"I'm in the shower, come in!" a shout comes through and Clint obeys.

The lights are dimmed but come on when Clint enters and sets the scones on the desk. Clint settles into the office chair, and looks around the room. It's pretty standard for SHIELD: a twin bed, desk, office chair, a small wardrobe and a situation screen on the wall parallel to the bed. What's surprising is the lack of personal artefacts. The bed has the dark navy sheets that come with SHIELD; the desk is clear of everything but a SHIELD issue laptop, embellished with a single sticker- Steve's shield.

Now that's just cute; he desperately wants to tell Steve now.

He's fighting the urge to eat his scone early when Phil walks back into the room towelling his hair, clad in low hanging sweats and an undershirt. Then Clint's resisting the urge to ogle. _No, bad Clint_. Phil's a friend. An attractive one, but he used to live with an entire group of highly attractive heroes, so this should be easy peasy. Then again, he keeps sleeping with fellow Avengers, so maybe not so much. "Uhhh- scones?"

Phil shoots him a quick smile that falters at the end. He goes over to the wardrobe and opens up a drawer to pull out a cozy looking t-shirt, then sits down adjacent to Clint on the bed. "Do we have a mission?" he asks.

"Nope. Well," Clint corrects himself, "I do. You're still suspended. Hill wants me to spy on you for her."

Phil sighs. "And you're here because you're actually following orders for once?"

"Hey, I follow orders! I listen to Cap all the time!" Clint shoots back with a grin. "Well, actually I figured, you know, Thursday evening, there's a new episode of _Dog Cops_ . You like _Dog Cops_ , I like _Dog Cops_." He passes the scone over, then takes a bite of his own. Then he frowns. It's too hard, and doesn't taste like the amazing ones Phil had made for them all those months ago.

Phil lets out a small laugh. "Yeah, it's pretty gross, I don't know how they managed to mess up something so easy to make." He hands the plate back to Clint, who dumps it all into the garbage bin.

"Well, Agent Coulson," Clint begins, "what do you say, let's blow this popsicle stand and go get some pizza?"

* * *

**10.**

 

And so a pattern is set. Clint's quite proud of it, because it's one of those things Sam had told him to do to help- set up routines.

Thursday evenings, Clint needles Phil until he comes to Bed Stuy. They order pizza, let the dog eat most of it, and watch _Dog Cops_. Usually, Phil leaves right after, but sometimes, he stays. Clint tries once to talk to Phil about therapy, and as is par for the course with such situations and Clint, he fails and Phil leaves. But most of the time, it's Phil and Clint on the couch, and sometimes with Kate is in the kitchen yelling on the phone (at Billy mostly, and every once in a while at Teddy, who doesn't seem to care much about the wedding itself, and Clint is spending way too much time with people nearly half his age). Sometimes, Lucky squeezes onto one end of sofa, pushing Clint and Phil to the other side, legs and hands pressing against each other.

Sometimes, Phil leaves with a soft smile on his face. Most of the time he just looks blank, as if the world's simply passing him by. Clint's seen that expression before on someone else, and it doesn't bode well.

* * *

**11.**

 

Clint calls Sam so often from the land line that he's memorised the number by now. But Sam has nothing to say to him that Clint doesn't know himself.

"Just give him time. He'll talk when he's ready. Just be there for him."

* * *

**12.**

 

They're midway through a _Dog Cops_ episode. It’s on a commercial break, so Clint's giving Lucky a belly rub. He notices the very moment Phil goes rigid beside him. He turns to look at him slowly; Phil's facing the television, but his eyes are unfocused. On the television, the earth from space is visible, bright and blue. Clint turns it off and gets off the couch to kneel in front of Phil.

"Phil? I'm going to take your hands in mine, is that okay?" he asks. No response. "Phil?"

He tilts his head and eyes begin to focus on Clint. When Phil nods, Clint slows places his hands over Phil's.  "Phil, Phil, you're all right. You're in my apartment in Bed Stuy, it's nine in the evening and you're safe. Phil, you're with me, and you're safe. It was a commercial, it's gone." He repeats this, again and again for five minutes before remembering information from Sam's pamphlets. "Phil, do you know where you are?"

Phil nods. "Can you tell me?" Clint prompts, rubbing his thumbs in circles on the cold skin of Phil's palms. From the corner of his eye, he sees Lucky scooting closer to Phil, slowly coming to plant a paw on his thigh.

"At your house, in Brooklyn," he croaks out.

"Do you want something to drink? Can I bring you some water?" he asks. Phil nods again and Clint begins to move away, but when he tries to let go of Phil's hands, Phil’s grip tightens, hard enough that it actually hurts.  

"Don't leave me alone, please," he pleads and a lump begins to form in Clint's throat.

"I'm not going anywhere. Just to the kitchen to get you water. Lucky is right here." Clint tilts his head towards Lucky, who's inched closer and closer to Phil until he's cuddled into Phil's side. "How about you keep him company while I get you some water? I promise; I'm right here."

Phil nods again and slowly lets go of Clint's hands.  Clint walks to the kitchen, still speaking as he grabs a bottle from the fridge and brings it back to Phil. Lucky's sprawled in Phil's lap now, allowing Phil to give him a back rub, and something to hold on to. Clint passes the bottle to him and waits until he's drinking to sit back down beside him.

There's a blanket draped over the couch, an ugly blue thing that Barney had used until he'd found the apartment in Queens. It still smells like him a bit and Clint actually likes that, but he doesn't know Phil might react. It couldn't hurt right? Sitting here doing nothing makes him feel completely useless. He wraps it around Phil, who huddles into it.

"I don't think I can move."

"That's okay," Clint replies, "We can just sit here for a while."

* * *

**13.**

 

"Why are you doing this for me?" Phil finally asks. "And don't say it's because Hill told you to, we both know that's not why."

Clint props his feet on the table and looks at his nearly empty bookshelf. "My mama used to say that pops was kind. That he used to be sweet and considerate and what not. Then Vietnam happened and he changed. I don't know, I only knew pops  after he came home. He couldn't cope, I guess." Phil reaches over and holds his hand. "It's kind of crazy isn't it? That he was this nice guy who was fucked over by the war? I never met that guy. My pops was always angry or drunk or both. He didn't sleep a lot and when he did, he woke up screaming. Sometimes I wonder what he'd have been like if he'd gotten help, ya know? If he'd learned to get back whatever it was he'd lost in 'Nam."

Phil is silent. Clint wonders if he should have just stayed silent, if he's just shitty at this whole thing. _What if Phil's having another flashback?_ "Phil? Are you-"

"When the Fear came last year I was in Afghanistan with Nick2. We survived that together too. But earth from space... the distance, the sheer size...it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I wasn't so terrified of it when I was up there dying. But now the very idea of it..." Phil shudders. "What if I never get that back?"

Clint swallows. He thinks of Barney and Jess and the Clown, of waking up in the hospital and being deaf again. Then he thinks of all the tenants, _his friends,_ on the roof. "Sometimes you can't, at least not on your own. Sometimes…sometimes you need help, Phil. I thought for a real long time that I could get by on my own, but now," Kate's face flashes in front of his eyes, "I know it's okay to ask for help. It's okay to let someone help you." They'd come. He remembers with a pleasant ache in his chest. He'd called, and they'd all come, from Steve and Tony to little Izzy and Anya. "You're not alone."

* * *

**14.**

 

The next morning, Clint is considering coffee machine-icide when Phil walks into the kitchen. Thankfully, it hadn't been too difficult to wrangle him into staying the night; there was no way in hell Clint was sending Phil back to the cold lonely place that was the Helicarrier.

"I'd offer you coffee but Barbara here is being a little bitch today- oh come on!" Clint smacks the damn thing. Still nothing.

"You named your coffee machine after your ex-wife?" Phil asks, dressed in Clint's sweats and looking absolutely adorable- wait what?

"It's a long story- shh, don't tell her." He resolutely ignores that last thought and proceeds to plead with the machine, "Baby, pleeeeaaase," until it starts working. _Finally._ "So... breakfast?"

"Oh, I've been a burden long enough," Phil says.

Clint turns around to face him. "Oh, come on, it's Friday, we're both off the clock- barring any major Avenger-scale emergencies. Just chill."

"I need to check up on Nick," Phil replies.

"I’d like that too, we can go together. Help me clear all this wedding stuff off of the table? I'll get breakfast ready." He makes busy with frying eggs and bacon (thank you, girly-girl for being an absolute busy body) while Barbara gurgles out coffee. Plating the food, he's walking towards the table when he finds Phil holding Sam's pamphlets in his hand.

Okay. This looks bad.

This looks the sort of bad where Phil might feel pressured, and now Clint's having a hard time breathing in and out because what if he just leaves and who knows what would happe-

"Could I have these?" Phil asks instead.

Okay. Not so bad then.

* * *

**15.**

 

Six weeks after slipping into a coma, Nick Fury Jr. wakes up. Clint's bringing Phil a mug of hot chocolate when it happens. One minute, Phil's saying thank you with that slowly returning smile of his and Clint's telling himself not to melt into a puddle of embarrassment. The next, Nick's sitting up in bed and demanding to know where _his_ drink is.

The smile on Phil's face is the most beautiful thing that Clint has ever seen in his entire life.

* * *

**16.**

 

Phil breaks down in the bathroom of his quarters. Clint can do nothing but let Phil rest his forehead against his own and hold onto his hands far too tightly. He bites his lips and lets Phil's broken, relieved sobs drown out any uneven breathing on his part.

Later, when Phil falls asleep in his arms, Clint considers admitting that denying this to be anything other than a mission is no longer working.

* * *

**17.**

 

Then he realises that by considering, he'd gone and done exactly that.

* * *

**18.**

 

Two days later, Clint decides once and for all, this is the final time. After this, he's done. He'll call Kate, apologise and let her buy him a brand new phone. This whole 'being kidnapped by SHIELD agents from his roof' thing is really starting to get old.

"Coulson looks a little better," Hill remarks while typing.

"It's not a quick or magical cure, boss. He's going to need time," he tells her. Yes, Phil is doing better, but he'd triggered a flashback yesterday after accidentally walking into the labs the Fury was being held in.

"Would you consider him ready for the field?" she asks, then puts up a finger, one hand coming up to press against her comm unit. "No, Sitwell, send in the extraction team now." She clicks it off again and then levels  a calculating look at him. "Barton?"

"No. I wouldn't. He needs more time, so stop bothering me. Samson will give you the green light when he's ready3. Now, unless the world's coming to an end, _again,_ I'm going home." He turns and walks towards the door.

"Barton."

"Yeah?"

"Good work."

* * *

**19.**

 

Clint begins to see less of Phil now that Nick is awake and moving. He tells himself it's a good thing. They still watch _Dog Cops_ together, that's a good enough friendship.

* * *

**20.**

 

It's Thursday evening and by now this is a well practised routine. Clint washes the dishes, Phil dries and Lucky is underfoot. Phil's been particularly nervous today so Clint's keeping a careful lookout. Phil has been working with Dr. Samson on exposure therapy lately, but Phil's not completely used to hearing gunshots, and sometimes the reminder is enough to set off a flashback.

Clint decides he'd rather ask than continue this awkward routine. "Okay, you don't _have_ to tell me if you don't want to, but is everything okay?"

Phil's cheeks bloom; he turns his eyes away and then faces Clint, ever-blue eyes freezing him in place. "Dr. Samson thought we should try something different in regards to exposure therapy."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. He thinks I should go to space."

Clint opens his mouth, then closes it. _Oh._ "Okay, that sounds big." He finally says. He can't help thinking about the commercial and that first flashback Clint had watched Phil experience.

"Well, I was hoping you would come with me?" The words rush out of Phil's mouth. His lips settle into an uneasy smile.

"Me? What about Nick? I mean-" _Eww. Now he sounds like a needy boyfriend._ And now Phil's smile is fading fast- "Thank you for asking. It would be my genuine pleasure. Yes, I would love to."

* * *

**21.**

 

The Noh-Varr kid is nicer that Clint was expecting him to be; he flies them to orbit and then stays out of their way. It's the first time Clint's had the opportunity to look down and simply be in awe, to focus on the earth and the stars and not on whatever the next threat is, whether they be Builders or Thanos.

She's so beautiful.

Earth in all her glory, the creator of humans, mutants, Inhumans, Atlanteans and so much more...mother to the miracle of life itself.

Clint knows he should make sure Phil's okay, but this is too much and he can't really breathe anymore. His eyes sting.

"They're all so beautiful down there, Clint." Phil is facing the window, Clint's behind him. He turns around to catch Clint's eye and smiles. There are tears in Phil's eyes too.  Then from one moment to the next, Clint's no longer floating near Phil, but in his arms, being pushed backwards. They slowly come to rest on the wall with their arms around each other. Phil's lips are cold but soft, and his grip is gentle but firm around Clint's waist. By the time Clint's brain catches up, he's already returning the kiss with fervour.

They pull back when they can no longer breathe, but only far enough to press their foreheads together.

"Thank you," Phil whispers. "For believing in me. For being there."

"Is this just thank you?" Clint whispers back, stomach churning.

Phil smiles and kisses the corner of his lips. "No. This is a future I want to build. With you. That is, if you want to as well."

"Oh, I do," Clint tells him, and pulls him in for another kiss.

* * *

**22.**

 

It takes Phil another three months to get field recertified. Every once in a while, he still fades away into darker memories. But Clint's right there in the darkness with him. They need time, but Clint knows they're going to make it through in the end. It's a lesson they've both learned well by now. Sometimes, you just need someone to help you through.

 

**Author's Note:**

>  **Footnotes**  
> 
> 1\. Refers to then Marvel crossover event called Fear Itself, where Odin's brother brought chaos into the world through fear. In the book Battle Scars, when Phil Coulson and Nick Fury Jr. are first introduced into Marvel-616, we learn that Phil and Nick were soldiers in Afghanistan at the time. 
> 
> 2\. That's the best description for the Marvel crossover event called Original Sin that I can think of. 
> 
> 3\. Yep, that's Dr. Leonard Samson, the She-Hulk's psychiatrist.
> 
>  **Premise (in detail):** This story takes place within Hawkeye and Secret Avengers comics. Specifically, after Hawkeye 22, volume 4, which will end Fraction's run (whenever that happens), and sometime after the Tlön situation in Secret Avengers has been dealt with. **For non-comic book readers:** Basically, Clint spends his time off living in Bed Stuy with his dog Lucky as the building super, and on secret missions with SHIELD along with Phil, Natasha, Jessica Drew (Spider Woman) and Nick. This Phil Coulson is a new addition to SHIELD, and is suffering from undiagnosed/treated PTSD. Kate Bishop is another Hawkeye from the Young Avengers. She's cool.
> 
> For the CC Holiday Exchange, ratherastory's prompt was that Phil or Clint has PTSD and there are no easy answers or quick fixes. They make it through anyway. They also wanted a story set in the MCU or 616, and mentioned the Hawkguy trope, so I was inspired to write a PTSD fic dealing with the 616 version of Agent Coulson, currently a Secret Avenger. Anyways, hope you liked it, ratherastory. I had a great time writing it, and learned a lot about PTSD. 
> 
> Again, I cannot thank ereshai enough for the hard work she put into this. Pro tip: do not think you can write an entire story 14 days after having a really complicated hand surgery. It's not going to happen. You'll miss the deadline your beta set and then feel terrible.


End file.
